Work Text:
If you were mine . . .
You'd have to ask me for a pair of underwear and justify to me why you think you need to wear them. Chances would be very good that I would say no.
You'd be required to shed your clothes at the door every time you entered the apartment.
I'd wear you out every, single night - multiple, hard to come to grips with orgasms that leave you incoherent and babbling and clinging to me. Every. Single. Night.
And again. Every. Single. Morning. You'd go to work with me dripping out of you while you're carpooling, buying your Starbucks, walking by your boss, and sitting demurely at your desk.
(I'm totally unashamed that I hope I'd leave a wet spot on your chair)
I'd fuck you bent over the hood of my car. In a parking lot. By the ocean. During tourist season. When we'd be most likely to get caught.
I'd fuck you outside, in the snow, after spreading out my parka for you to lie on, trailing snow all over you, raising chill bumps, paying particular attention to your peaked nipples, then warming you with my mouth, holding you down while I pop a small, hard snowball into your pussy, pushing it deep within you with my cold fingers while my mouth has its way with your clit, forcing you to the precipice then backing you off with a wad of snow placed and held on top of that aching little nub, repeating the cycle until you beg me for my permission to cum.
(which would always be required)
Crossing your legs or denying me access to your body in any way would get you caned. Then I'd take you out clothes shopping and somehow make sure that the saleslady saw the raw, raised red tracks I'd left on your butt.
(Maybe I'd even make you confess to her why you were sporting them . . .)
I'd buy one of those butt plugs that are designed to be worn for hours at a time, and send you out with your girlfriends for shopping and lunch while you're wearing it, with strict orders not to so much as touch it while you're gone.
You'd spend entire weekends bound to my bed - allowed up for bathroom breaks only - taken roughly when I want you, for my own pleasure, forced to lie quietly - perhaps hooded - when I was in the rest of the house, going about my usual routine, knowing you're lying there, like a good girl, waiting for me to use you as you need to be used.
The implements I'd use on your naughty little behind would hang on the walls of my bedroom, near the bed for easy access, and so that you'd have to look at them any time you're in that room.
(And so that anyone else who comes into my room would see them, also)
Perhaps I'd make you sleep more nights than not - once I was through with you - totally dependent on me - bound - wrists locked together in strong but comfortable cuffs, ankles, too, both holes stretched and over-full and vibrating, blinded by a sleep mask you can't remove, kept on the edge all night but not allowed to cum.
. . .
Still think you want to be mine, darling? :)